


What I miss the most...

by Arithanas



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Trick or Treat: Trick, Vignette, dead and doesn't know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-27 23:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16229639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Mary had been feeling something is missing.





	What I miss the most...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mimm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimm/gifts).



Mary heard the door open. Laszlo's uneven steps crossed the parlor. 

Mary came out from the kitchen, drying her hands in her apron, and stood by the long dinner table. Waiting for a word, for a command, for a look... his kind look had been so important to her through the years, like heavenly, sustaining manna.

His gaze didn’t touch her today. 

Mary felt it had been months since he had looked at her with those kind, haunted eyes. He had seen the pain of the world with those eyes, and yet, his gaze could caress her like she was the most precious porcelain doll in a shop window display. 

She needed him to look at her. 

She took a couple of steps forward, with her hand reaching to touch the back of his favorite armchair as he filled his cup with his good hand. Mary would have been elated to serve him his digestive, but he hadn’t asked her to do it. Mary felt tears stinging her eyelids, not knowing whether she had done something to displease him or he was just having an urge toward autonomy.

Laszlo took a sip before settling his weight into the chair with a tired groan. Out of habit, Mary turned her eyes to the fireplace where his slippers used to rest. They were nowhere to be seen, and she felt a pang of guilt. It was her job to keep everything just so. 

She put her hand on the side table and the cup shook. Laszlo caught it absentmindedly and sighed. That was the same sound she had heard many, many times when the patient had no cure and no hope.

Mary went to sit by his feet, in hopes that he would ask her to unbutton his boots again.

“Mary...” he called with a heavy voice before leaning forward as if he were in pain. “Oh, Mary...” 

And he was looking her in the eyes, but his gaze didn’t touch her.

Mary wished she could cry, because the weight of his gaze was what she missed the most.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta kindly provided by R. who, as usual, was a trooper.


End file.
